A Fight For His Honor
by Persephone Lemonade
Summary: Jacob Ben Israel says a few things about Sam on his blog. Puck gets pissed. Lots of bad language.


_first dive into puck&sam._

**A Fight For His Honor**_  
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One of Puck's favorite hobbies is kicking ass. Seriously, he likes beating the crap out of people. Sometimes for noble causes other times for no reason at all. Today, however, was noble cause day and Jacob Ben Israel was going to get his ass handed to him on a silver fucking platter.

He's practically stomping down the halls when jewfro catches his eye with that stupid fucking camera in his hands. He pulls him by that ugly-ass polo of his and shoves him against a wall of lockers, causing the shorter kid to drop his precious camera in fear.

"Don't hurt me!" Jacob begs squeezing his eyes shut.

"The fuck, jewfro?" Puck questions. There's a small crowd forming around them, though no one's really shocked. It's Puck for christ's sake. "Who the fuck do you think you are posting that bullshit?" he grits.

"Wh—what stuff?" Jacob has the nerve to ask.

"That bullshit you said about Sam!" Puck shouts pulling Jacob by his collar and shoving him into the lockers once more. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't beat the shit out of you. You have ten seconds. Go," he sneers.

"I'll give you my first born child!" Jacob shouts. "WRONG!" Puck says as his fist comes in contact with jewfro's face. "And let that be the last time I see Sam's name on your dirty ass blog!" he shouts, kicking him in the shin twice for good measure before pushing past the crowd.

He's nearly halfway down the hall and the crowd has already disappeared when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He sees jewfro run past him, hand over his nose causing Puck to smirk before looking down at his phone.

_Cmoe to the chior room. Now. -S._

First, Puck smiles at Sam's attempt at spelling. He's gotten used to reading the mixed up letters after so long. He always did think his dyslexia was cute as fuck. But he'd never tell anyone because he was a fucking badass and badasses don't think things are cute.

Next, he kinda panics because he always does when Sam shows no sentiment in his text messages and while Puck is no pansy, he kinda likes the sentiment from Sam. He makes his way to the choir room, shoving his hands into his pockets once there. He sees Sam in the back corner looking adorable as ever (oh my fucking god he's suck a fucking pansy. He's gonna need to go sit through all the Rocky movies to get his fucking manhood back)

"Got your text..." Puck says, walking into the room.

"I told you last night that I'd handle it," Sam says.

"I know you did but jewfro's a moron and I wanted to kick his ass anyway so win/win," Puck shrugs.

"Yeah, but now you beat the crap outta him and you're gonna get yourself suspended. Again," Sam says rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, well it's worth it. Asswipe'll never say another word about you again. That dumbshit," Puck grits.

"You still didn't have to hit him. He probably won't again anyway," Sam says, walking over to Puck.

"And if he does, he'll probably never walk again so, it's up to him really. I mean what the fuck's wrong with you liking to write your own comic books?" Puck asks crossing his arms.

"It wasn't about the comic books, Puck," Sam says. "It's because nothing was spelled right because of my dyslexia. I'm used to it."

"Yeah, well he's a fucking douchebag for making fun of you for it, hence getting his ass kicked," Puck says. "Your shit's better than anyone else in this craphole so he needs to shut the fuck up with that."

"You're cute when you're angry," Sam says, a small smirk on his face.

And Puck can't help but blush, as he looks down at his feet, running a hand over his mohawk. Seriously, he's fucking blushing, what the fuck? "Don't make me kick your ass too for making me act like a girl just coz you said that, Trouty Mouth," he says with a small smile.

"Not the approach I would've taken but..." Sam trails off for a moment. "Thanks for defending me."

Puck shrugs. "Jewfro deserved it. The prick."

"Would you stop being the tough guy for like three seconds," Sam asks, still smirking at him.

"It's who I am, babe," Puck says, pursing his lips in a flirty pout. They're so fucking gay, it's intense. But for some reason he likes it that way, even if that does make him a pussy.

"Wouldn't have you any other way," Sam says, tugging lightly on Puck's white tee.


End file.
